Chapter Six
“This chick can’t be for real,” I said, lowering my working station so I could give my aching feet a rest. I had been reviewing Daphne’s file for the past forty-five minutes and my feet couldn’t take any more.
“Wayne covered for Billy Hobbs last week so Billy could take a few days off,” Tech said, leaning back in his chair to take a break. “Wayne said Daphne whined for three days that she wasn’t safe without Billy at her side.”
“I’m betting Wayne loved hearing that. Have I met Billy?”
“Don’t think so. He usually works security for big events involving the rich and famous. His assignments don’t cross paths with our investigation work. He was only assigned a stalker case because the other guys threatened to quit after spending one day with the client. Billy’s used to the crap that comes with these hoity-toity clients, so he volunteered.”
“The flowers delivered to Daphne could be coming from anyone.”
“So?”
“What if she’s sending them to herself?”
“Sending herself flowers with creepy messages?” Tech clicked his mouse a few times before reading from the screen, “Your thighs glistened as you walked across the stage last night. It made me hard. I can’t wait to have you.”
“Ooh,” Bridget said, bouncing in her chair. “She’d totally write something like that!”
“Especially after Michael broke up with her on the red carpet!” Beth said, nodding at Bridget. “She was so mad.”
“Did you see her upper lip turn white because she was pressing her lips so tight?” Bridget asked Beth.
Beth nodded, grabbing Bridget’s arm. “Did you read the article in People Magazine? A friend close to the source said she threw a vase at Michael’s Porsche, smashing out the windshield.”
“She has nice boobies,” Carl said, turning in his chair as one of the TV monitors lit up with a red-carpet picture of Daphne in a barely-there dress. Her breasts were pouring out of both sides of a thin strip of material.
“Nice, Carl,” Tech said, chuckling as he laced his fingers behind his head and admired the picture.
The door opened, and Wayne entered with a stack of pizza boxes. “What an ugly woman,” Wayne said, shaking his head at the TV screen.
“She’s beautiful,” Tech said, glancing over his shoulder at Wayne.
“Not after you meet her,” Wayne said, shuddering. “Ick.”
“Is she faking the stalker?” I asked Wayne.
“No idea. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.”
“You have to give us the dirt,” Beth said, taking the top pizza box and opening it.
“Not much to tell,” Wayne said as we grabbed a slice. “She’s a bitch to everyone. Her own family would disowner her if they didn’t all work for her. She checks her reflection in the mirror every ten minutes and raises hell if someone has something she wants. She made her sister strip out of a dress before an event and trade with her, because her sister’s dress was nicer. Poor girl was in tears and skipped the event.”
“Does she really have a tattoo of a bird on her ass?” Bridget asked.
“Yup.” Wayne nodded. “A bluebird.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“She insists her bodyguards are present while she skinny dips in her pool. She says she worries her stalker might breach the property’s security. I know when a girl likes to be watched, though, and that chick almost orgasmed in front of us.”
“I knew it.” I stood and tossed the file onto the far cabinet. “Daphne invented the whole thing.”
“How do you know?” Tech asked.
“She’s not actually scared. Someone with a crazy stalker isn’t likely to go skinny dipping in an outdoor pool.”
Bridget shrugged. “Everybody reacts differently.”
“I agree, but not that differently. It’s also not the only red flag I noticed.”
“You want me to terminate her contract?” Wayne asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not willing to risk a client’s safety over a hunch. No. I need to prove my theory first.” I looked up at the monitor of Daphne on the red carpet. “Give Billy a call. Have him convince her to come to the tournament this weekend. Let’s set the bitch up and see what happens.”
“Ooh,” Bridget squealed again. “This is going to be good.”
Wayne laughed, heading toward the door. As he exited, the kids came tearing in around him and into the room. Wayne held the door open for Hattie before he left.
“Well?” I asked. “How’d it go at the dentist?”
“Good,” Sara said, grinning.
I smiled at her before looking at Nicholas. He moved to sit by Carl. I raised an eyebrow and waited him out.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, sighing dramatically.
“Well, I do,” Hattie said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“How many cavities?” I asked.
“Three,” Hattie said, holding three fingers up at Nicholas. “And one of them was an adult tooth.”
Nicholas stared at the table.
“What do you think we should do about this, Nick?” I asked him.
He shrugged a shoulder, not looking at me.
“You can’t let your teeth rot out.”
“Yeah, man,” Tech said. “Girls don’t like guys with rotted teeth.”
“I don’t care what girls like,” Nicholas said, shrugging again.
“You will eventually,” I said, walking over and lifting his chin to look at me. “By then it will be too late. You’ll look like some redneck with bad hygiene.”
“What’s hygiene?”
“Cleanliness.”
“I’m clean.”
“Your teeth aren’t,” Tech said. “Do you really want to be the guy with bad breath and black rotting teeth? You can also get digestive infections.”
“Really?”
Tech turned to his laptop, typing rapidly against the keyboard before he stopped and pointed up at the screen behind Nicholas. The picture of Daphne was replaced by a close up of a man
